Crossroads To Love
by Orokid
Summary: A new school year, a new onslaught of problems.  When Brittany decides to give up on waiting, how will they both cope when a transfer student starts getting Santana's attention?
1. Chapter 1

_This is my first attempt at a planned out fan fiction, so honestly I don't know how this is going to do. I'm mostly curious to see the potential in it, although I also admit that this is starting to become a little hobby of mine where I think out the plot and whatnot. It's been a lot of fun, to tell the truth. We'll have to see where this goes together, and how far it will go. Thank you so much for taking you time to read this, and I look forward to writing this story for you guys._

_Anyway… I guess I should have a spoilers warning around here, just so everyone knows right from the start. This fan fiction is taking place at the start of senior year, and I will likely be pulling bits and pieces of the actual show into here. True, I will deviate, since I am adding different characters into the mix, but for now the first episode of season three is going to be mentioned, and perhaps even later things that will happen. We'll see._

**Disclaimer**: _I own nothing. That about sums it up._

**CHAPTER ONE**

Santana had been dreading going back to school since the day she had walked out the door for summer vacation.

Her heart had been in shambles back when the final bell had rung in her ears, trying to work out the problems that had formed since she had come to the life changing realization that most people in the school would harass her over. Throughout the entire summer, she stuck herself in her bedroom, leaving for mini events so she could seem social with her so called friends and for food, and she thought. Feelings weren't necessarily the best thing she had ever come to terms with, and she wasn't going to be the type of girl who, upon figuring it out, would bring in all her friends around her and tell them that she was a rug-munching dyke and that they should come support her at the next gay pride event three towns over. She wasn't the type to scream from the top of the rooftops that she liked women, especially if the said rooftops could cause her to end up getting knocked of for that very same fact. She was the type to play it safe, to come to terms with it on her own without having to rely on anyone- because, after all this time, the only person she'd ever truly relied upon was herself. It was easy to push the world away, to isolate herself and her thoughts until she worked the knowledge of possibilities in her head like a salt-water taffy machine, churning to the point where she thought her mind would explode. As much as it had hurt to leave the school like she had- a hug goodbye, a whisper of friendship, an eye's worth of wanting so much more- she was starting to understand that it was probably better this way. After all, in the months she had taken to thinking about her least favorite subject- emotions- she knew that she still wasn't ready to take that step, to walk out of the closer and into _her_ waiting arms.

But she missed her, the woman she adored, Brittany, whom she loved so completely and truly that thinking about loving someone else felt like a sin. She missed waking up to the sun glinting off of her blond hair in the morning, missed the first glance of crystal blue eyes staring into her soul with a smile on the girl's lips. She missed kissing the girl, holding her in the middle of the night, and her arms often ached to reach out for the beautiful young woman after a horrible dream caused her to wake up crying in her empty bedroom. Yet, no matter how she looked at it, her lover, the one she cared for so deeply that the distance physically hurt, she couldn't just ease her way out into the open, couldn't allow anyone to know of the fact that she was in love with her best friend. And the girl didn't deserve to be stuck into hiding, even if just to sedate her own needs in the process.

Standing before the front entrance of the school, the short Latina cursed to herself as her lips ached for a cigarette to calm her jumbled nerves. Every year, she subjected herself to this, to walking back into the hallways of a school where she was both hated and feared, where few actually thought of her as a friend versus the reincarnation of Satan himself. In the start, it was a thrill, stuck in a life where no one looked twice at her because she owned the school. She was royalty and they were just mere peasants who meant nothing more to her than little underlings whom she could step on. But everything had changed, feelings became involved, and, despite it all, she found something that she enjoyed more than causing terror in the hearts of freshmen and seniors alike. She found people who accepted her (mostly), who called her- out of all people- out whenever she was doing something truly wrong. She lost her status, her cheer coach, her life more or less- but she didn't lose _them_, even as she continued to rip and tear at their self confidence, to say the truth because no one else would. Every year since sophomore year, she'd have to work up the status that she had lost… but a part of her didn't even want to try this time. Why bother when all she was going to do was lose it in the end? Besides, wasn't she graduating this year? Still… when one has status, one controls the playing field, and considering her position of late… She needed something to hold her up in a minefield of sexuality issues.

With a grumble, the young woman chewed lightly on her bottom lip, wishing still for a hint of nicotine to lighten up her mind, although deciding in the end to take a look at her schedule for the first time since she had gotten it the week prior during the usual orientation time frame the school had. Taking note of the classroom number, she turned her gaze back up to the school entrance again, bravely putting on a front that she could only hope would scare the life out of some unknowing student. With a firm step, she moved into the building, mentally cursing the throngs of teenagers that seemed to spiral around like like a never ending loop of irritating noises. The memories of the prior year came back like a slow gas leek as she moved, her heart breaking ever so slightly as she found herself nearing her locker, where far too many things had happened for one person to handle. Yanking open the small metal door, the short and hot headed young woman stared at the darkness in the recesses of her tiny storage space. How she was going to survive this mess of a year was beyond her, although God knew that she was going to give it a try, even if that meant hiding such a crucial part of herself just to get by.

"Hey."

The word had been soft, weak and unsure, almost overshadowed by the hurry-scurry of their peers around them- but to her it sounded like a gunshot in an echo chamber. Her body stiffened, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as she debated her choices. She could turn around, pretend like the distance she had forced between them over the summer hadn't existed, or she could run, blame school for her quick departure, and worry over what was going to happen upon their following run in. A part of her felt ill at ease at the idea of booking it like so had so many times before, remembering with a stomach churning ease the look of utter hurt that had crossed those beautiful crystal blue eyes she could easily drown in, and she recalled swearing never wanting to see that look for as long as she could. Hand gripping the metal door of her locker, the seventeen year old Latina took in a deep breath, afraid of what she'd see if she turned to look at the girl who remained standing there, staring at her expectantly. In her mind's eye, she could see that doe-like gaze, hesitant and fearful, biting lightly on her bottom lip as she waited for a reaction of some kind. Exhaling slowly so to attempt to calm her already jumbling nerves, Santana carefully turned her chocolate stare at the girl she still desperately cared for, gently snapping shut the locker she was holding onto with white knuckles. There was no handle to grip, nothing to hold onto so to keep herself from leaving her spot- just her will, and she prayed that it'd be enough. "Hey." A smile tugged at her darker lips, spying the girl's teeth grabbing hold of her lip, although it was that alone that sent her heart racing.

"You didn't come over much." It was a statement, one that both reminded her of her decision to figure things out on her own and of all the aching her heart and body had felt yearning for things she just couldn't allow herself to have. At least, not yet. If they were out in New York, Los Angeles, any big city where loving someone of the same sex would be as relevant as the color of one's hair or skin… Only then would she be able to move beyond this wall of insecurities.

Leaning back against the metal, a lock digging lightly into her side as she watched with a masked anxiety the beautiful Dutch girl she loved. "I was busy." Her eyes quickly downcasted in guilt, knowing that the reason was weak, and probably anyone would be able to read through it- especially the blond before her.

"With?" She could hear the concern laced in her voice, and the young Latina felt a little bit relieved that the taller young woman had chosen to ignore the lie. Once more raising her brown eyes, the caramel skinned teen shrunk slightly within herself at the knowing sparkle in the sapphire pools, knowing all too well that she wouldn't be able to escape this conversation without that stare delving deeper into her soul with an ease no one else could manage.

Quietly, Santana gave a shrug in response to the girl's question, not all that confident that she could be honest with everything. Still, those bright cerulean orbs watched her with silent adoration, and the hope the shorter girl had to keep her private thoughts at bay seemed wasted. Somehow, she mused, this girl always knew the right buttons to push to get her to talk. Unable to meet the blond's gaze once again, the Latina found herself looking around at the throngs of students walking down the halls, ignoring the two of them with a practiced effortlessness. Nonetheless, she couldn't stop herself from the thought that raced through her mind- that if she were "out", everyone would be staring, glaring, throwing slurs and whatever else at her like the abnormality she was. She just couldn't put herself, let alone sweet and lovable Brittany, into a position like that. It would be selfish and cruel. She just… couldn't. "… thinking." The curious and concerned gaze wouldn't leave her, and the young Latina simply crossed her arms before her, attempting to protect herself from those probing blue eyes that simply knew and saw too much. "Britt… Don't look at me like that. I just need time."

The taller girl's body moved, crossing her arms as well, and the caramel skinned seventeen year old could feel the weight of the other's stare life off from her. "More time, you know." Santana could easily hear the sadness traced within her words, and they struck her heart like knives, both vicious and hurtful. Her hands curled into fists beneath the armor of her arms, every inch of her wishing that there was something, anything, other than what her beloved was asking out of her, a way to take the girl's pain away without putting them both into harm's way. But, in the end, she remained rooted in place, cursing both her inability and their backwards homophobic hometown. "I just don't…" The blond trailed off, hands clutching at either side of herself, a hug that couldn't fill the holes of truth that burned within her. "I can't keep…" The Latina braced herself, knowing just what she was about to say, her stomach churning in depression and apprehension.

She couldn't keep waiting.

Inhaling, pushing the tears that were close to breaching the stronghold she held on her emotions, Santana swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat. So many times, she feared this moment, prayed that it wouldn't come, but she knew that she couldn't keep running away. After all, it wasn't fair for Brittany to wait for her to accept the things in herself that she could barely bare to stand on her own. She had come to terms slightly over this fact before ever coming to terms with herself, as ironic as it seemed. "It's…" Again, she inhaled, blinking back the tears that were now threatening to fall, forcing on a smile that couldn't quite make her dark orbs. "I understand, Bee." She cleared her throat, hoping to scare away the sobs that she knew would come soon enough if she weren't careful, finally raising her hand from her arms to brush away the building liquids.

Gently, lovingly, she felt a soft, pale hand brush against her cheek, thumb rubbing away a stray tear that had fallen without her permission. The blond before her offered a grim smile, and the young Latina could easily read the adoring apprehension in the blue pools that sparkled longingly toward her. Soon though, Santana had come to realize just who intimate their position had to look, similar to the way the towering freakazoid of a quarterback carefully wiped away the worries within the shortest hobbit in Middle Earth. Turning her head slightly, flinching at the girl's touch, the shorter seventeen year old watched as that hurt she despised returned to the blue eyes she absolutely treasured, dimming the sapphires that usually shown brightly no matter how dark a place was. Her heart ached, but it was better this way. At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Watching quietly as the girl pulled her hands back to her sides, she heard the whisper of words that escaped the girl's lips. "I still want to be friends, San…" Her voice saying that felt very much like a punch in the gut, likening the feeling to being told you could still keep your dog right after it'd keeled over. Tucking her hands firmly back into a crossed position, she strained to keep herself at ease, to not let her emotions that screamed to be allowed a rampage get the better of her. Even if she kicked and screamed, demanded tat they keep a relationship on the down low rather than be out and proud with things she was never proud of, she knew it would be futile. Attempting to change Brittany's mind was like changing your gender- it would take a lot of time, a lot of acceptance, and a shit load of patience.

"Britt… I-"

"You filthy dyke!"

Immediately, Santana froze, her body trembling as her fears took complete hold. Someone had found out. Someone might have overheard them talking. Someone was out there, screaming her truth from the rooftops, more than likely ready to treat her the way Kurt had been. She cursed herself for not being more careful, for allowing some random nut-ball who would make her life a living Hell on Earth to find out the one thing that she had wanted to keep under wraps. Last but not least, she cursed herself for being exactly what they were calling her- a filthy, vagina loving, flannel wearing (why did she have to wear flannel today?) dyke. Closing her eyes tightly, she awaited the freezing chill of an iceburg's worth of slushies slam into her face. She waited for all of her fears to become a reality, to be slammed into the lockers she was leaning against and called again that word she had once thrown about in a slew of curses toward everyone who dared cross her pain. She waited for Hell to begin.

And she kept waiting.

She could hear some of the jocks move ever closer to her, although they were already laughing amongst themselves, congratulating one another for putting the trash into it's place. Peeking out warily from her squinted eyes, she found herself looking directly at a young woman, standing still in shock, red gooey liquid dripping from her arms, her clothes, and even her face. Slowly but surely, fingers drenched in the sticky substance, she did her best to brush away the stinging sensation. The Latina felt her heart ache, imagining herself in the same position as this stranger, gasping for a much needed breath while peers either scoffed in amusement or completely ignored the situation by moving around her. She felt herself make a step forward, only to stop, chocolate eyes cemented on the figure who was trying to stand tall and proud despite the icy beverage that was weighing her down. A part of her wanted to help, to show her that there was someone here that didn't care, who was actually in awe of her strength and convictions, but the Latina's lack in both kept her place, too afraid of what helping might do. Even if she never said the words, simply assisting someone of that nature would cause everyone in the school to whisper, to talk behind her back and out her from her closet faster than toast being made at the lowest setting in a toaster. As Brittany made a motion forward, the Latina quickly grabbed her hand carefully, lovingly, catching the sapphire gaze with a sorrowful one of her own. Silently, she told her not to go, not to mix herself up with those sorts of things, and even though her blond seemed to protest in silence, she didn't continue on.

At the sound of a tsk-ing sound in the background, Santana dropped Brittany's hand as if it were on fire, turning around to look at the woman who was simply staring on at the scene in disgust and her usual disgruntled anger. It was a look that the girls had long gotten used to, realizing back in freshmen year that there were few things in life that would ever caused the frustrating older woman's mask of hatred to most living things crack. The only thing that had ever seemed to make her smile was a person that was gone from this world, and a shame it was. "Christ, another senseless crime of bullying. It would make me sick to my stomach if the lining hadn't already been destroyed by my protein shakes." Finally, the educator's eyes had fallen from the scene to the duo that was standing nearby, watching her cautiously and uneasily, something the Latina thought more or less called for it after the dirt incident that had occurred. Her favorite new top hadn't recovered, and neither had her instincts. "Zeppelin, fun-bags." Both girls nodded in response, acknowledging that they were being talked to rather than speaking since it was just easier not to when in the presence of their former cheer coach. "Once you're done laughing at how the gay kid's been doused with an extra helping of life sucks, get used to it, I want to see you in my office." Santana's gaze turned slightly toward the blond beside her, their eyes meeting once again, although this time they seemed filled with a fear that only one person alive could bring out of them. Neither moved, fearful of the wraith that might take place if they did, only to receive of loud, "Now!", which the teenagers took to heart, quickly moving in response to their command.

Silently, quickly, they entered, scurrying to their seats as they did in the past when they wore their red and white cheer uniforms of power. The young Latina stuck close to the one closest to the door, feeling as though it was the safest one in the entire room, having been in such a situation before where she felt the need to run while staring down the burning eyes of their cheer coach. While she never ran, too afraid what it might do to her reputation as the biggest badass in school, too unsure what might happen to the blond who took her seat beside her, the feeling that she should remained. Santana felt herself swallow hard on the building lump in her throat as the older woman lazily made her way over to the comfy looking chair behind her desk, a smug look upon her face as she moved. It unnerved the girl to no end, her heart pounding as she tried to think of the reason as to why they had been summoned to appear before her. Had she found out about all the times she and Brittany had stayed behind in the showers, 'helping' each other get clean? Or about the affections that they held for one another (even though one wasn't willing to wait for her to be open about it- a memory that stung to her core)? What if they were brought into the lair of doom and terror to be told that she knew, and that she was going to make sure their lives were made into a living hell because of what they were? What if-

"Now," Sue began, seating herself down easily within her seat, only to cross her legs by throwing her foot onto her knee and to gather her fingers together to weave them in the usual cycle that happened. Either they were to be in trouble, or they were going to be a part of a new found plan that the woman had to get rid of glee. Either or, the situation wasn't good. "I don't want your heads to swell to the size of Lopez's breasts, but I need you both back on the squad starting today." She gestured a hand toward a wall they had dismissed, where two uniforms hung quietly against the wall. Both teenagers quickly turned to look at the woman with a mixture of shock and surprise, throwing in a hint of uncertainty after all of the events throughout the years prior. "Don't look at me like that. I just need people who know what the Hell they're doing while I'm off winning a seat in the senate, and I can't count on little newbies that think that cheerleading is the only way to get the guy or whatever fantasies you're deluded with. I need the ethics that I've instilled in you as a team, even if you do choose go off to gallivant with the losers in that god forsaken glee club."

The two remained silent, Santana watching the woman carefully, hoping to find the hidden agenda within the words that had just been said. The Latina could feel the heavy gaze of sapphires watching her, the anxiousness within them both filling the room. Deciding to rejoin could help them since their descent into the throngs of mediocrity and loserdom, and after losing the one thing she was willing to forget popularity for (with more time permitted, of course), the caramel skinned girl couldn't help but feel like it was her only chance to regain a part of the world she was losing. Friendship with the woman she loved was something she still wasn't sure she could do, but popularity was something that she craved, needed almost as much as she needed oxygen to breathe- and if it meant being respected and adored by random strangers and peers, then she was willing to trade in that too. Still, something within her, whether it be acknowledging the past or even what the future held for them, stirred distastefully at the idea of rejoining the Cheerios like she had done twice before already. Both times, she had strutted into the school with the confidence of the reigning bitch in charge, shoving people into lockers with the mere force of how awesome she was, but she always ended up leaving the squad for one reason or another. Last time, it was over the fact that the same person who was asking, almost pleading even, for their return insisting that the blond beside her now to shoot herself from a cannon- one that had a high chance of killing her. Who was there to say that something similar wouldn't happen again? After all, if it was for a championship title, this woman was known to pull out any and all stunts possible. It was just the type of person she was, and while the girl respected her for that determination, it was the lack of ethics to safety that red flagged within her mind.

Still… popularity reigned in this school, and being popular meant that no one looked twice at you or cared what you did or who you did it with. It was something like that which made the situation before her now hard to ignore, and even harder to deny.

The look of decision within her chocolate orbs seemed to be enough for the overbearing coach, who stood from her seat to grab the hanging uniforms from the walls and push them into the arms of the teenagers before her. "Get changed into those immediately, unless you want me to revoke my decision and take you and that damned Glee club down as I see fit." Unceremoniously, she threw herself back into her cushioned seat and into paperwork that she wasn't even reading as she signed away the lives of her students with a stroke of her pen.

The girls gingerly held the uniforms, brown eyes meeting with blues for the first time since they had entered the office. There were so many emotions in those sapphires, some which caused the Latina's stomach to churn at the mere sight of them. Fear and uncertainty filled them, and Santana did her best to offer as much compassion and understanding in the silence that followed their reinstatement, a small smile that had yet to reach her shamed gaze. A soft sigh escaped her as she lowered her head like a beaten child, cradling the outfit softly against herself as a comfort to the voice inside that was screaming at her in revulsion. She needed this. Beside her, the beautiful golden haired splendor stood, although didn't move for a moment. Looking back up toward the girl, she realized that there was a pinkie held out to her- a promise that she understood why she had done this. Lacing her smallest finger with the girl's, she stood quietly beside her, raising her head so not to leave the office looking like she felt. No one besides Brittany really needed to know what went underneath the surface, and she would be damned rather than to allow anyone to find out. Instilling the air with a confidence she lacked, the duo made their way to the door- only to stop as she heard a voice call out to her from behind.

"Oh, and Boobs McGee- I want to see you bright and early before school tomorrow at six thirty. If you're late, you'll learn to regret misplacing my trust. Got it?" The woman hadn't taken her eyes from her paperwork, although she seemed to have some sort of sixth sense to recognize that they had remained, long enough for her to recall her secondary demand from her.

"Yes, coach," the Latina replied with a nod, filling a thrill fill her as she tried to think of what it was that the woman had to say to her, although she assumed that it was from the fact that she would once again be standing atop the ladder of superiority within their middle of nowhere nothing school. It was a wondrous feeling that no one would ever understand, and she was alright with that. To be the alpha wolf in a pack of mere mangy dogs was enough, and she hoped it would remain to be that way. Biting her lower lip, she nodded toward the curious and cautious blue eyes that watched her, telling her that it was alright, and she would be alright.

Once again making their way out of the office, they had nearly run into a slightly older looking young woman, her curled ebony hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, strands having fallen to the sides of her striking well kept up features. Her pale skin contrasted greatly with the darkness of her mane, and her hazel orbs sparkled with a fervor that few of the adults had any more. Brittany perked up at the sight of her, a smile gracing the lips that Santana had to remind herself that she would never be able to kiss again. While a shock of agonizing emotions coursed through her, the Latina took to watching the scene before her with a mask upon her features. The last thing the taller girl needed was knowing just how broken she felt in the wake of their prior locker conversation. "Miss Maloni," the blond greeted warmly, holding her uniform stiffly against herself. "Hey, you subbed in my biology class last year."

The woman paused in her pace, recognizing her name and also that she was being talked to, and Santana smiled briefly at her before busing herself with looking at her nails. She could recall now the class that her secret lover was mentioning, although she would never truly admit to it. Even if the woman, who was only a handful of years older than them, was kind of cute, and many of the jocks had spent their time trying to get to know the girl better throughout their class period (which meant that it had to have occurred for each class she had with students), the subject had been far from her concentration. What had been was the fact that Brittany had chosen to wear those tight jeans that always made the Latina want to rip them from her hips and have her way with the girl. The restraint that she had to show that day was all that she really remembered.

"Yes, yes," the woman nodded with a smile. "One of Missus Gillin's classes, right?" The blond gave a grateful nod, obviously happy that she'd been remembered enough by this person who was more a stranger than most of their peers. Still, it brought a smile onto the Latina's full lips, glad to see the sight beside her more than she could ever know. After all, it had already been far too many months that she had spent grasping to memories and their few interactions over the summer- every smile she noted was like the sun shining into her self made darkness. "I would love to keep talking, but I have to get ready."

"You're subbing on the first day?" the blond asked, obviously perplexed at the idea that an educator would step out on the initial start of the year.

With a soft chuckle, the teacher shook her head, shifting the various contents she held within her arms- a stack of papers that seemed to have an itinerary for the entire English semester, the caramel skinned girl observed silently, realizing a moment later that she had torn her eyes away from her fingers long enough to look elsewhere. "I got a job here. You'll probably see me for one of your classes." The woman gave a toothy smile, once again shifting the items in her arms. "Sorry, but I really have to go. It was good seeing you both again." With that, the teacher was off, turning down the hall quickly with her destination in mind.

It only took a moment's walk to finally make it to the closest restroom without interruption, something that Santana was ever so grateful for as she slipped into the stalls and out of her clothes. Taking with people had never been a high point in her life, having always been tempted to make a comment on a person's attire or the way they held themselves or whatever else might cross her mind, and she could only assume that that was the reason why she really only had Brittany to call her friend. Cheer top in hand, she paused to glare at the scratched paint before her, already despising that word. She had to get used to it, had to force herself to understand that sexy times with the woman she loved were never going to happen again, and that the last time she had kissed those luscious lips were going to be just that- the last time. Her body mourned the touch she would never get to feel again, the reality of the decision that had been made growing heavier upon her as she felt the sting of regret and self hatred. If only she had 'outted' herself, allowed her heart the space to be true with itself rather than stifling it with a beard and forever climbing the ladder to a society she kind of didn't want if it meant losing everything else… But 'if only's' where just wishes that could never come true, her chances lost in her own fears.

Once zipped into the uniform, glad to see that no adjustments needed to be made (because she would kill herself rather than to exit the stall looking like she was a repeat baby-gate), she ran her hands idly against the red pleats of her skirt. The year was going to have to get better than it started. After all, she had already fallen so much already, so she had to have hit the floor by now. Once she felt happy enough with her look, the young Latina unlocked the doorway… only to find herself face to face with the girl who had her head in the sink trying to get out the red dye that was already staining her white t-shirt. Guilt moved through her, stronger than ever, as she stared at the one person who signified whom she could be, beaten down by the peers who would usually trip on themselves over her good looks and striking emerald eyes- Santana lowered her gaze as she realized that the stranger had looked up and locked eyes with her. "What the Hell are you looking at?" the Latina spit icily, her brown eyes watching the stalls quietly just to make sure she didn't miss Brittany bouncing out with that sexy cheerleading uniform. Even if the girl wouldn't leave her by her lonesome whether she wanted her to or not, the caramel skinned Cheerio couldn't help but feel awkward under the weight of the stranger's stare.

It weighed much more than any of her other peers.

"Nothing, I guess." The young blond simply shrugged, seemingly uncaring, rubbing another coat of water over her burning eyes that had been dyed by the slushy she'd been hit with.

The Latina crossed her arms, wondering why in the world Brittany was taking so long just to get into her cheer outfit. Still, as the alien before her hissed in obvious pain, she turned her head slightly to look at the girl once again. Her gaze was indignant, hopeful to keep her status as the head bitch of them all in place, but there was an underlying kindness that rarely showed itself. Biting her bottom lip, she found herself weighing the choices that she had before her, looking both ways before making her way over to the sink. If anyone saw this, she was going to regret it, but she hoped that it was close enough to the start of class that no one would bother entering. Especially since the 'dyke' was occupying it. Most girls in their school would likely turn tail rather than share a small space with someone who probably couldn't even hurt a fly- at least, that was how she looked from the distance that had been between them. Although now that she was closer, there were definitely muscles beneath that skin of her's.

Roughly grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser, she placed a hint of soap on it, rubbing it so to make suds and bubbles on the material. Pulling the girl's chin, her fingernails digging into the stranger's face lightly so to keep her in place, she gently began to rise away the stains the best knew how after her one run in with the freezing beverage. The emerald eyed girl seemed panicked when she had begun, although quickly calmed as she realized that no harm was likely to come to her. Heaving a sigh of relief, the unknown student closed her eyes and allowed the girl to help her. "If you tell anyone that I did this," the Latina started, her tone light yet tinged with the usual underlying threat that she threw around, "I _will_ ends you. Got that?" The dirty blond before her nodded quietly in response, although stopped as the grip upon her chin intensified. Still, she didn't complain. "Name?" Santana demanded lightly from the young woman, rubbing a little harder at a spot that seemed to be too stubborn to leave the new arrival's pale skin.

"Amanda." The answer was light and thankful, although the small crooked smile that crossed her full pink lips was enough to give the caramel skinned girl a warm feeling within her chest. Why? She wasn't sure, but she simply ignored it for the time being. "You?"

A smirk moved it's way onto the Latina's features, unable to feel anything but amused at the playful tone that she heard in that simple one word question. Plus, that red patch had finally lifted and everything else that was troublesome was likely going to come off after this. Grabbing the dark flaxen haired girl's hand, she shoved the paper towel into it, pursing her ruby lips as she stared at her, jade orbs fixating themselves on the cheerleader who had just assisted her. "Santana." Once again, the Latina crossed her arms, brown eyes turning to look around for the first time since she'd stepped up to help.

There, standing off to the side with a loving smile upon her lips, was the blond who was currently taking her breath away just by standing there.

Still, a subtle panic overtook her, wondering how much of the situation she had seen, fearful that maybe the beauty whom she adored was thinking that maybe she was moving on already. Nonetheless, the tall and lithe dancer simply stepped forward, taking the Latina's pinky into her own for the first time in months. In that moment, everything just felt right, and she wished that perhaps she had as much strength to be herself. Turning back toward the unknown girl- Amanda, she reminded herself- she offered a caring smile that she would die rather than to admit to have done to anyone that wasn't Brittany. "Hey, good luck." She wasn't sure what made her say it, but once it was out, she felt within the deepest regions of her heart that she was saying the same to herself. After all, if the girl really was gay- which, considering the fact that there was truth in every rumor, she could only assume- then they had something in common. It was an unsaid trust, and an even more unspoken understanding. The girl shook her head in agreement and thanks, then offered her a smile that seemed to reflect the words in return.

Moving the leave, Brittany turned to wave happily back at the girl, although there seemed to hold a strange feeling within them that probably even she didn't understand. "See you later." Amanda grinned brightly at the other cheerleader's gesture, returning it lightly before returning to trying to remove the remaining stains upon her face and neck. As the duo disappeared out the door, a silence hung over the dirty blond haired girl, who had paused to stare mournfully at her ruined white t-shirt. Sighing, the girl simply tossed the crimson dyed paper towel in the trash- although stopped completely as anger and hurt laced through her, as well as many other emotions, at the sound of a small uncertain voice coming from the door.

"Hey."

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_Holy… Eleven pages. It's been a super long time since I've ever written something this long- and trust me, I'm happy about it. Oh my Gawd… Anyway, this is the first chapter of my new fanfic, and I'm looking forward to writing more for it. After watching the first episode of the new season, I was able to figure out how to form the start- which is and will likely always be my biggest problem._

_But… where should I begin explaining where this came from? Mostly from a lack of Glee over the summer, and also from reading a lot of good fan fiction in the meantime. My favorites, I admit, are some that have definitely influenced what I was going to do. One being "Come Out and Fine Me" by lovebugxstories, which was where my need to write this fanfic came to mind._

_So yeah… What do you think? I'm ever curious about it. Mostly since this is the first story I have more or less planned. Please click the blue letters that say "Review", tell me what you think, and I will love you forever. For. Ev. Er. Thank you for reading! See you next chapter!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Oh my gawd! I'm so sorry for the lack of a post recently. Due to several extenuating circumstances, I have been unable to even write on my computer, although I honestly blame the fact that my laptop completely decided to crap out on me. I'm a super sad panda right now… It was my first real laptop. _:( _But that's beside the point, and at least it's up now, right? Better later than never, after all._

_Disclaimer__: All rights belong to someone else, mostly to Fox and then to all the writers and whatnot. I own exactly nothing._

**CHAPTER TWO**

Santana stood quietly and silently just outside of the school's parameter, cigarette half burnt already hanging from her lips as she tried to decide what her course of action had to be. Her arms were wrapped tightly about her waist, trying to warm herself against the nip of chilled air that blanketed their fairly boring, majorly annoying small town, although there really wasn't much she could do dressed in that damnable (yet altogether needed) uniform. She used to tell herself that the noriety she gained wearing it eased the cold, and in a way it did. Mind over matter, after all. But, at that moment, she was just too preoccupied, her mind defiantly trying to figure out just how she was going to deal with the ultimatum she'd just been given. She was silently pacing, brown eyes upon the stretch of pavement that her feet pounded against relentlessly, a hand nervously holding onto the smoldering bud as she tore herself apart from the inside out.

Every year since she'd joined the glee club, she'd always been forced to fold her cards and hang up her pom-poms for one reason or another. Each time, it killed her, giving up both power and status as a McKinley Cheerio just so she could feel like she really belonged somewhere rather than painting on her usual war paint before heading out into the blood bath that one might call the high school hallways. For so long, she hid behind the red and white pleats of her skirt, but being in the ranks of loser Dom meant being true to herself for the first time in her entire existence. Standing center stage, singing her heart out to an audience that was dazed and allured by the unknown power of her siren's call, was just like standing just inside a small, warm and comforting home, one where you'd imagine your family waiting for you, your wife and kids giggling and happy as they run up to you as you open the door and kiss you half to death.

But… the cheer uniform was like wearing a mansion- cold and lonely, and sometimes people feared of revered you for your wealth. Yet that was the allure. Your peers didn't dare cross you, afraid what it would mean for their own social standing, or they remained ever hopeful and vigilant that someone as goddess-like as a Cheerio would someday look upon their insect like existence with something other than a monarch's contempt for the middle and low classes. It was a privileged lifestyle, one which many a girl would kill for, and considering the fact that Coach continued to make space for what was once the Unholy Trinity meant more than anyone could ever know. Sue Sylvester never held spots, and she never, ever forgave someone if they denied her. Especially when said person or people decided to join the one thing she hated worse than even having a heart, and consistently ditched her to aid said thing instead.

Santana paused in her circular course, taking a long drag of the cancer stick she held, tapping her feet anxiously as she stood. She wanted both equally, and yet her coach was demanding that she choose her side accordingly, dangling before her all the things she desperately wanted. With popularity, she didn't have to worry about becoming the next 'Kurt' if her deepest and darkest secret came into the light because no one would dare listen to the gossip about the school's cheer captain. At the very top of the ladder, she could stop any rumor before circulating, putting Jacob Ben Israel in his place before he would even dare to vlog about the salacious news. She could protect herself from the various homophobes that had made Kurt's life a living hell, rule over all of them with an iron fist and maybe even reenact the Bully Whips just to force order and prosperity on each of their asses. She could play straight for yet another year, deny herself yet another thousand chances she might have with Brittany-

Oh yeah, she'd already lost all of them.

The young woman grimaced, troubled brown orbs glaring at the bud that was reaching it's end, her mood worsening as she fumbled ungraciously with a side pocket of her book bag just to find an empty carton at the end of her grasping fingers. She let out a swift slew of curses, most unknown to most of the keen ears of both student and staff thankful to their lack of comprehension when it came to the Spanish language. All in all, she did feel grateful for that, although she was far from thrilled about the fact that she was lacking a refill. Oh, her McKinley peers were not going to like her today…

And then, like a message from God Himself, a single long cigarette appeared before her, held by an unfamiliar pale hand, obviously offering it to the Latina as it remained, still and almost taunting her. Cautiously, she reached out for it, caramel fingers stopping in midair as uncertainty filled her. The woman turned her head, eyes carefully analyzing the seemingly kind person, too jaded after all these years to just trust a gesture without payment in return. Squinting, she narrowed her gaze accusingly, although there was something within her that seemed to recognize the unknown person. Seconds began to tick by, and finally the name and event returned to her, reminding her just how much could really change in just twenty four hours. Emerald orbs watched her, an amused smirk upon her pale pink lips as she wiggled the cigarette, almost as if reaffirming the offer. With a hesitant grab, she took hold of the stick, keeping her eyes upon the other girl even as she lit it between her lips, mindlessly tossing and destroying the old bud beneath the toe of her sneakers as she took a long drag off the new one.

Finally, the silence broke, the Latina wearing a glare befit of the school's head bitch in charge. "What do you want?"

The dirty blond simply shrugged in response, pulling another stick from the mostly full pack in her hand before sliding it into the confines of one of her jeans pockets where it probably had been before. There was a well worn rectangle shape in them, the cheerleader noted, before hearing the tell tale click of a lighter being brought to life. The girl stared listlessly toward the school, her mind briefly elsewhere as she took a deep puff of the cigarette, but as she took the item from her lips, her emerald eyes moved to the ground, her hair falling from it's neatly combed state to hide her beautiful features. "Just wanted to say thanks for yesterday," the girl admitted, her tone and appearance even and seemingly entertained by the expression that the seventeen year old Latina wore. All in all, she was caught off guard, having rarely come across anyone who took her moods with a grain of salt, another blond having been the first and last to have simply chuckled in response. In all honesty, it was a little unsettling and amazing at the same time. The emerald eyed girl kneeled to the ground, seating herself on the chilled concrete of the side what that they'd been standing upon. Once again, her gaze returned to watch the school across the street, a combination of unsaid mixed emotions bubbling within them. The two teenagers smoked in silence, both with things weighing upon their minds, neither relying upon the other to talk about it. It was easy and comfortable, even with the foreboding shadows that loomed almost everywhere around them.

Finally, Amanda spoke once more. "So… was that girl your girlfriend?"

If Santana had been inhaling, she realized, she probably would have accidentally swallowed the burning stick whole. Instead, she had frozen, caught off guard once more, her heart pounding at a rate that she hadn't thought possible. Fear filled her immediately, turning accusingly toward the other girl as the cigarette hit the floor. Her chocolate orbs were alight with fury, hopefully hiding the absolute terror that she felt underneath those probing green eyes that seemed to be laughing in mirth at what was happening. "Why would you-"

"Hey, it's not that big a deal," the young woman chuckled dismissively, waving off the offending anger that she could feel resonating off of her smoking companion with her hand, a never ending grin upon her pink lips as her attention waned to the school once again. "At Crawfords, no one really gave a rat's ass about it. Hell…" The girl shrugged silently, although there was something in her green eyes that said much more than she was willing to. "You'd be surprised how many wannabes there are before the school mixers begin."

The Latina watched the teen beside her cautiously like a wounded caged animal learning how to trust it's captors, her thin yet strong arms crossing in front of her as she registered the information that she'd just been given. Silence reigned between the young duo, the blond entranced by the buildings across the wall, her expression mixed yet unreadable. All in all, the girl was an enigma to her, and being someone who knew the secrets of most of the student populace from a single shared glance usually, the cheerleader couldn't help but feel off kilter around this stranger. Especially after having been caught off guard like she had, asking her about the one thing no one was ever supposed to know. The fact that she even knew… It sent a shiver of panic down the girl's spine, curious and fearful over if someone else might know, and, if they did, why hadn't they been announcing it down the hallways like every other piece of gossip they found.

With an uncertain glare, her fingernails biting into her bare arms, Santana couldn't help but ask "How?"

Amanda turned her gaze toward her from the place on the ground where she had settled herself down, uncertain just what was being questioned. Her head moved to the side slightly, curiosity burning behind those bright orbs of hers. "How what?"

Santana heaved a heavy sigh, cautiously glancing over toward the school just to make sure no one was coming over to yell at the students for smoking near the campus. On the property or not, some people just seemed to need to bother those who were just minding their own business. Besides, it was barely seven in the morning- school didn't even start for another half an hour. With a grumble of distaste upon her lips at the mere thought of interruption (even if she had technically dropped her beloved cancer stick to the dirty pavement), she shot her gaze back to the stranger, her heart racing as she tried to think of just what this girl might want from her. After all, no one did anything without wanting payment in return. Her voice low, her tone somewhat dangerous as she determined just what her situation was right then, she elaborated. "How did you know about… the 'issue'?"

The green eyed she-devil took in a long drag of her cigarette, a torturous move as the cheerleader fidgeted nervously in place, one of her nails making it to her lips as she anxiously began to chew. Eons seemed to pass, and even though reality was that it had only been a few seconds, she couldn't help but feel impatient to hear the answer. After all, what if she had done something that had announced that she was some dyke of epic proportions or something? She honestly didn't think that she would be able to last another with these man-women watching her greedily, asking if she'd join that damn golf club. If she was going to be forced into the flannel uniform of lesbianism, she wanted to at least wait for college. Finally, the girl exhaled, smoke billowing beautifully from her pale pink lips. The Latina chose to chock the odd skip in her heart rate up to how on the edge she felt around this young woman. "Yesterday. In the bathroom. Just… the way you looked at her."

Immediately, Santana stood rigid, her arms held tightly at her sides as she registered the words that the girl had just said. Her heart was still, fear creeping through ever vessel in her body. She didn't even know this person, and vice versa, and yet her biggest fear was playing out directly in front of her- where someone would end up finding out, putting two and two together to equal big bad lesbian. Instinctually, she wanted to run, to leave this place and just pretend like nothing bad was happening. Still, she stood her ground, too proud not to face her punishment head on, trying to convince herself that going up against Moby Dick herself was a far more difficult task than this. Besides, it had to be better than some of the looks her supposed 'friends' gave them. Even while they supported a boy who would someday be the mascot for gay pride parades around the world, the way they looked upon their sometimes not-so-secret touches with uncertainty or mild horror, not quite understanding despite their acceptance of the other person. It was as ironic as it was irritating, but she'd never dare say a word about it. After all, on one hand, it meant that making mention of their blatant yet confusing homophobia would thus out her entirely, and considering the fact that the gossip brigade of McKinley was filled with many of the same divas as the glee club, she would then out herself to all of her peers. Not a wonderful idea. On the other hand, announcing it in front of Brittany… Well, she knew that she wouldn't be able to handle that sad look ever again, knowing all too well how much it would truly break her if she was forced to.

But that was besides the point. What was, she reminded herself, was that this girl knew, and that was enough to scare the living shit out of her.

Gruffly, the young Hispanic girl gritted her teeth, pissed at herself for letting someone in on the big secret, and angrier yet that she was now at the mercy of some little piece of- "So what the fuck do you want? Popularity? To get those retard fucks off your back? I swear to fucking God, if you tell-" Santana paused in her irate rant as a laugh tore through her concentration, and she could only stare at the dark blond before her with surprised eyes. No matter how threatening and scary she might seem to the rest of her peers, this stranger didn't even bat an eyelash at her. Instead, the girl seemed far too amused by it all. To say that she felt a tad put off kilter by this was like trying to explain something everyone knew, like grass color and the light- it felt odd and unwelcome, too strange for her to completely understand it.

Amanda fought her giggles the best that she could, and the Latina did her best to ignore the fact that the girl's voice did sound melodious. The dirty blond stubbed her cigarette butt into the ground beside herself, her bright viridian orbs centering upon the cheerleader with mirth as she quieted herself. "Now aren't we a little excitable this morning," she teased, bringing up her knees to her chest so to lean upon them. Of course, this only warranted another glare from the young Hispanic, but she didn't seem at all bothered by it still. "Hey, I don't really want anything." The almond orbed girl still didn't seem convinced, too jaded after all of her years of empty promises from her family. Soon enough, the odd enjoyment the girl obvious had felt had left her, a solemn look upon her pale features. "I'm happy just to know someone else here…" For some reason Santana wished she knew, the tomboyish young woman didn't make a move to finish her sentence, her gaze becoming far away, directed at the school once again. Curiosity began to plague the Latina, wondering now what exactly it was that seemed to cause this different girl such a strange look upon her cute features.

Carefully, minding the pleats of her cheer skirt so to make sure not even a passerby might see her shorts underneath (Hell, the boys at McKinley had peeved over lesser things), the dark haired beauty set herself down beside her. Her lips pursed, a low grumble coming from her throat, Santana could only heave a heavy sigh. "She's not my girlfriend." Instantly, green eyes were upon her, curious about her emission, and her caramel hand raked through her ebony locks. "She never really was."

"But yesterday-"

"Yesterday, she told me that she's not going to wait anymore," she bitterly spat, frustration forming in her every being- although she knew that it was only her depression getting the better of her. Her pride had been wounded, but her heart felt utterly broken, shattered beyond means. The only reason she was able to get through the last twenty-four hours was because she had forced herself to focus upon the senior year experience she wanted to build. Reinstatement into the Cheerios, as well as being made captain this morning (although she was hesitant to recall the bargaining made for her new position), definitely helped, and she was determined to date up the social ladder once more in hopes to gain what she'd lost. The fact that her self respect was waning was just a minor side effect. Carefully, an understanding hand saty itself down upon her shoulder, and she simply shrugged it off. The last thing she ever wanted was some lesser person's sympathy. "Look, it doesn't matter anymore." Honestly, she wasn't sure if she was saying it to convince the girl or herself. "I'm just going to move on with my life, enjoy kicking nobodies and losers into place from my throne, get a boyfriend-"

"You don't want that." Amanda's green eyes centered upon her, her tone and gaze knowing far too much for someone who didn't even really know her.

Anger erupted inside the Latina, her hands forming fists as she glared accusingly at the person beside her. "You don't know me." Gruffly, she scrambled to her feet, barely even making completely sure that there wasn't some perve across the way wishing to catch sight of the tight boy shorts underneath her skirt. Quietly, but with as much quickness to her step, Amanda rose, calm and certain, emeralds blazing with too many emotions to count- forgiveness, compassion, understanding, sympathy, uncertainty, and a flicker of things that the girl likely regarded and kept deep within herself. "Don't pretend to know me, you stupid fu-"

"I don't need to know you, Santana- I was you." Silence filled the air, between them, a tense feeling bubbling between the duo, both standing tall and unwilling to back down from their passionate beliefs. Still, the Latina couldn't help but feel like she'd just been struck down, pummeled by the words that had left the dark blond's lips. Raising a hand, Amanda pointed directly at the cheerleader, proceeding to poke her decidedly against her chest. "I've **dated** you." Annoyance seemed to build within her voice, emotions causing it to waver slightly as her hands moved with her shaking fury. "Do you know what happens if you continue this shit? Broken hearts. Mostly yours." Arms falling to her sides, hands in tight fists, the emerald eyed transfer simply glared. Her calm had left her, and for some reason the Hispanic couldn't help but wish she'd remained cheerful. "You'll end up alone, miserable, wishing you changed your God damn mind rather than lose her for fucking ever!" Amanda heaved, slightly out of breath after her irate spiel, unshed tears shining in her green eyes. Santana stood awkwardly, wanting to slap her for even saying such things, but also wishing that she could just cry. Even if she was too proud to admit it aloud, she knew too well that what the girl had said was true. She was conflicted, unsure, and the quiet between them was far too loud.

Carefully, her caramel hand began to reach up- only to stop as the girl turned away, pressing her own hand to her eyes so to quell her shaken emotions. She gave a shaky sigh, stretching and reforming a fist in her free arm several times before she'd finally let her limbs fall to her sides. Almond eyes watched with concern and hesitation, but made no movement. The Latina's palm rubbed absentmindedly against her chilled arms, feeling out the various goose bumps along her skin, letting her mind repeat the other teen's words endlessly. Was she right? "Look, I-"

At an inopportune moment, the school bell gave a shrill ring, signifying that each of the students should start their way toward their classes. Quickly turning heel, Amanda began to check the street, careful not to cross if there might be an oncoming vehicle. Shooting her hand out, Santana's fingers firmly wrapped about the blond's arm, gaining the attention she searched for… yet she was far from sure about what she wanted to say. Her mouth hung slightly up, her brown orbs speaking more words than she knew how to say to the irate young woman. Emeralds stared into earths, reading quietly, cautious and defensive, both girls guarded yet wishing that they could just open up to make the other understand. Still, both were too stubborn to, Amanda's jaw locked in place and Santana glaring. Seconds passed between them, and with an exasperated sigh, the caramel skinned young woman finally and carefully let it go. "Look, I don't know what's gone on in your life, but… I just know I'm not ready. Bee knows that." Running a tanned, shaking hand through her dark locks, the young Latina tried to guard herself from the emotions that were raging within, crossing her other arm before her. "I know I'm stupid for thinking she'd wait, but…" She paused, hearing as her voice grew thick. Even if she'd never admit it aloud, she knew that she'd been bullshitting herself for all of this time. Fierce green eyes softened, a quiet pity within them, and all the cheerleader could do was clear her throat in response. "I'm not strong. I know that." Her voice was quiet, and yet the meaning behind her words nearly blew the transfer student away.

A small, slow smile curled onto the pale girl's lips, her long fingers slowly reaching up from the place it'd laid at her side. They almost touched, kindness and understanding shimmering in the near stranger's orbs once more, but her fingers snapped back in midair as a voice carried through the chilled Lima air.

"Hey!"

The girl's hand withdrew immediately, hiding the things she was feeling deep within those bright emeralds, and Santana could only watch in wonder and curiosity as they transformed into a mysterious deep forest color. Chocolate eyes moved, gazing at the person who had dared interrupt the conversation they were having. Her usual bitch glare in place, she stared at the semi-familiar form of that teacher Brittany had mentioned before, slowing to a stop midway through the empty street. One of the good things about living in such a small town, the Latina mused darkly, was that no one really ever had to worry about being hit by a car. Still, Maloni stood, her stance reminding her just how much she disliked teachers as a whole. Opening her ruby lips in preparation to say something snaky, she stopped herself as Amanda roughly pulled herself away, briskly passing by the educator without a care as to the fact that most saw her actions as disrespectful. Their conversation would have to wait, the Hispanic girl noted with a grumble of discontent, watching as the older woman glanced curiously between the cheerleader and the retreating figure, trying to decide probably which needed the most disapline- and Santana could only roll her brown orbs as the hazel eyed, ebony haired woman turned tail toward the school, shouting after the blond to stop or slow down her pace. All in all, it did figure- no teacher, new hire or old fart, ever had enough balls to try and get a Cheerio in trouble. Considering the fact that doing so meant making enemies with Sue Sylvester, she could understand, although it really was far too trite after all of these years.

Slowly and uncaringly, the seventeen year old sauntered back onto school grounds, taking solace in the emptiness of the hallways, a small smile crossing her caramel features as she allowed the truth of what had just happened outside flow into her heart and mind. True, she and the new girl had ended up bickering, butting heads like rams in a mating frenzy, but the fact remained that someone knew- someone who wasn't herself or Brittany- and they hadn't run screaming, and the girl hadn't even attempted to use the Latina's vast popularity to gain enough noriety so the school bitches left her alone. It was strange, different than what she would have assumed of anyone schooling at McKinley- but it was definitely not bad by any means.

A hand caught her by surprise, grabbing hold of her wrist securely before the teenager was soon wrenched from right where she had been walking. She caught herself before screaming in surprise, recognizing the touch of her captor before the door clicked closed. Carefully, chocolate orbs glanced about the room, noting it to be her English class later on in the day, although empty due to a teacher having the right to an hour to plan or something like that. In the past, they had once staked out the empty room, taking solace in one another with their secret kisses and touches, but now, with the words that had been said yesterday, she could feel a subtle distance that seemed to have grown between them. Honestly, the hurt from this fact rivaled what she had felt when she was desperately grasping for the grains of chances that she'd dismissed due to her fear, watching them slip through her fingers, but she kept her feelings and mask in check. Gently, she did her best to yank her wrist back, crossing her arms in defense as big blue eyes watched her, searching for something she wasn't sure she could give.

"What did you talk about with her?"

The question seemed to tumble off of waiting lips, an unspoken terror shining in those crystal orbs that dazzled her, and the Latina nearly unhooked her arms from herself so that she could bring the girl in and quell the worries she obviously felt. Still, stubbornly, she held tight to her ground, determined not to give in so easily after her heart had been turned away for the nth time since her feelings for the young woman had become known. Santana instead quirked an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to keep her cool about the matter. Besides… "What does it matter?" Her words had come out a lot snakier than she had meant them to, her bitterness over being denied shining through her voice. Caramel arms tightened, only to shrug after a short moment. "We were talking."

Brittany leaned back against the teacher's desk, looking just as uncomfortable and unsure as she'd ever seemed before- and for a reason which she couldn't explain, the Latina couldn't help or deny the pang of enjoyment out of it. The dancer's sapphire orbs were looking almost everywhere except at the young woman she had dragged in, something the cheerleader noticed but said nothing about. It was just easier to, her mind abuzz with frustration she'd been ignoring or pushing down and away for at least the last twenty-four hours. She was hurt, unbelievably so, having believed (or, at least, hoped) that the beauty she loved would wait for her to come to terms with her sexuality, and now that she was stuck adoring someone who was willing to fall for someone else, all she was left with were feelings that could no longer be reciprocated. Quietly, the girl asked, "What were you talking about."

Santana pressed her thumb and forefinger against her chocolate orbs, a frustrated sigh leaving her lips, her jaw jutting slightly as she did her best to keep hold of her tempted anger. She was just lashing out, she reminded herself with a slow inhaling breath. Last thing she needed to do was scare her away- especially if she didn't have a really good reason to do it. "Don't worry about it," the Latina dismissed with a grumble, her arms unwinding and falling to her sides. "Look, I have to get to class, so if there's nothing really pressing to talk about then-"

"She's really pretty."

The head cheerleader raised an eyebrow at the blond once more, confused by the statement that had just been made, uncertain as to whom or what she was talking about. She quirked her head curiosity, squinting her brown eyes while her lip curl with hesitation. "What?"

"She's really pretty," the taller girl repeated, her crystal orbs silently analyzing something very interesting on the other side of the classroom, her fingers tight around the lip of the desk she'd been supporting herself upon. Still, she made no move to turn, to look at the woman who was what she assumed was her best friend, her teeth catching her lower lip nervously. "That girl," she added, trying to shed light on the mystery which the dark haired girl had yet to unravel. Silence settled awkwardly between the duo, stretching tighter as seconds began to tick by with still no answer of recognition. "That one yesterday. In the bathroom."

Instantly, it dawned upon her, and the Hispanic girl couldn't help but grow defensive, her eyebrows knotting and her teeth grinding lightly as she quietly tried to quell the burning anger that was lighting within her heart once more. She didn't have the right to say something, she thought, biting her tongue hard, unwilling to say something she couldn't take back later on. To the rest of the world, she'd leave the filter off and force them to take her constructive critiques whether they wanted to or not, but this girl… She honestly couldn't bring herself to demean or belittle her no matter how hurt or angry she felt. After a moment, Santana had once more wrapped her arms about her waist, unsure where to put her hands after half of a year with jeans and pockets, but also just as unsure what to do with herself with all of her mixed feelings. As calmly as she could, she answered, "Amanda?"

Brittany clenched her teeth tighter together, something the normally happy girl never did, her features scrunching together lightly as if she'd just been sucked punched in the gut. "You're on a first name basis with her?" The taller girl tightened her hold on the large desk, sapphire eyes moving to halt on the long caramel legs that stretched from the pleated skirt that she wore.

The Latina shrugged, feeling slightly deflated, wondering yet knowing the truth to the question that had been asked without the girl even asking. Still, the embers of her rejection remained. "Maybe."

"You never do that." It was a statement to the obvious, and the cheerleader couldn't help the chill of undeniable sadness as it hit her square in the chest. She was still mourning, still yearning for the things she knew she couldn't have, and yet here the blond was, offering her mixed signals as a consolation prize. Coffee colored orbs turned toward the wall, looking for the spot the dancer had been keen to look at moments before rather than focus on the beauty before her, too stubborn and too uncertain of her answer to give one. Moments continued to pass them by, the silence thick and almost unbearable, and neither moved, too afraid what it would mean if they got up to leave. Finally, with a sigh filled with worry and discontent leaving her pale pink lips, a troubled look upon her face, Brittany asked softly, "Are you interested in her?"

For the first time in what felt like eons, earth met water, the browns in the Latina's eyes shining with surprise, shocked that the idea had even crossed the blond's mind. Santana's eyebrows furrowed in hurt. Did she really think that little of her? Of her feelings? The corners of her ruby painted lips lowered, and she fought a wave of tears as they threatened the corners of her eyes. She would not break down. She would not start screaming. She definitely would not give the girl the satisfaction of being able to physically affect her so. Once again, anger tore through her as she suppressed her sadness, and her mask slipped into place like it always did. "Why the Hell would it matter? You gave up your chance to be all in in this." Her frustration was showing, and for once she didn't particularly care what the blond thought or felt about it. "I'm single, and if I wants ta get my lady kisses on with that hot piece of ass, then ya best believe I will."

Brittany looked and felt deflated by Latina's word, looking almost as if all of her worst nightmares were starting to come true. "San-" She reached out for the caramel hand that continued to lie loosely at her side, only to have it briskly and roughly pulled from her reach.

"You don't get to, Brittany." Her words were firm, tears beginning to prickle the corner of her eyes as she pointed angrily at the dancer. "You. Don't. Get to." The blond retracted her arm, her gaze unconfident as she kept her eyes upon the shorter girl, her features resembling a puppy who'd lost their way home. The look alone nearly broke the tanned young woman, but she'd been too hurt for too long, and she just couldn't bring herself to forgive the knife that she felt stabbing through her broken heart. "I have to get out of her." Santana turned, lithely escaping the reaching hand that had shot from the dancer, her heels quickly clicking down the halls as she moved down them. Tears were falling, her entire body throbbing in ache as her steps became swifter with each footfall she made. A short stride later, she had moved into a run, just wanting- no, needing- to get the Hell out of this school. Lunchtime performance or not, she just had to escape.

The Latina was brought to an abrupt stop as she ran right into a slightly taller form, and she felt and looked too broken to fix herself in front of this unknown person. Instead of back away, pretending that she was fine, the cheerleader simply latched on, sobbing brokenly into the button-up lavender shirt she already knew that she had recognized. Strong feminine arms wrapped tightly around the crying girl, accepting the weakness that she showed, offering only soft consoling noises, gently rubbing her hand on the Latina's back so to quell her heartaches in the middle of the empty hallway. "It's okay," Amanda cooed softly, and for some reason she couldn't place, she found solace and comfort in them. "It's okay," she repeated, this time more tender than the last, curling slightly into the embrace they now were in.

Over Santana's shoulder, emerald eyes met cautiously with a pair of sapphires, only to slowly fall as she curled into her embrace entirely about the girl in her arms.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Just barely made eleven pages this time around, although it's not like I meant it to happen. I just like writing, and this chapter was actually kind of fun to write while I was working. Especially since my manager's didn't care as long as I was doing my job otherwise, and often commented positively on my work ethic. It was awesome! They even asked for me to apply next year._ XD _I wish Halloween was year long, or at least that those people (owners and managers) had stayed in Florida with a job for me to do._

_Anyway… There's been some movement in the story, although admittedly not much time wise. It's funny that I'm still technically on the first episode when we're seven in already. But it's for development! At least that's what I keep telling myself… _^_^ _Moving on, I'm really proud of myself for cracking down and finally re-typing this up (since it was half written on my now broken laptop), and I hope to have the third chapter up as soon as possible. It just depends on my schedule, and the availability of my mother's desktop. Here's hoping!_

_Also, before I forget, if you want to ask what happened after that 'Hey' at the end of the first chapter, guess what? I'm not telling'! Well… at least, not right now. I'll backtrack to explain later, I promise. I just like cliff hangers. _XD


	3. Chapter 3

_It's late. I know this. I'm not proud. Thing is… well, sometimes reality is just easier to take than fiction. Especially since the character I'm basing Mary Maloni upon is no longer in my life permanently. So, that said, I've just been working through things- emotions, writers block, etc. Hopefully this lives up to whatever I may have started those months ago, and that you guys still enjoy my story._

_Disclaimer__: All rights belong to someone else, mostly to Fox and then to all the writers and whatnot. I own exactly nothing._

CHAPTER THREE

The lunchtime performance could have gone much better, Santana thought dryly, peeling from her arm what she could only assume to be cheese from an infinitely disgusting pizza slice that someone had thrown. Her uniform had gotten hit a lot of the time, and it was strange to her just how much status and power meant nothing during a full on food fight. Every other time, she had stood tall on her well deserved place in the social pyramid, simply laughing at the peons of the lower classes as they did whatever the Hell peasants do, and even as she fell from the graces of school royalty, she had only dealt with Karofsky's one stupid slushy attack in the entire three years prior. Considering how many times Berry was face blasted with an ice burg of deliciousness, that really did mean something, and besides that dumb (incredibly super mega faggetron) jock was just doing it to be a dick and to keep his status alive. All in all, she didn't blame him for it, and, if the roles had been reversed, she would have done the exact same thing. But the fact remained that this moment, as they finished their kick ass Go-Go's performance that even the original artists would drool over themselves after seeing, standing head to toe drenched in food byproducts while reigning as the current head (well, technically co-head) cheerleader of their once award winning squad. It was hurtful and degrading, and the mere idea of stepping foot again in the hallways with all of those haters scared and angered her almost as much as the thought of 'coming out' did.

"_It'll be okay."_

It felt strange hearing Amanda's voice in her ears, echoing in the aray of complaining teenagers, all of whom looking like they'd been hit with a garbage truck filled with various assortments of high school semi-edibles. If she hadn't gained an iron stomach after her first year of Sue's vomit inducing shakes for cheer practice, she probably would have emptied the contents of her belly at the sight of them. She could only wonder just how well the other girl was fairing after the predicament created by those art-hating peers they now share. Was this how it had been at her last school? After all, she had mentioned earlier that she'd gone to Crawford's, and Porcelain's hobbit of a boyfriend had talked up their sister school during the few times she'd been stuck drinking coffee with the duo. At least, she'd hinted at the school. In all honesty, she wasn't one hundred percent sure of the information, and one really could only assume that one's knowledge of such things was because of their experience there. Then again, as a frown pained on her caramel features, the Latina had recalled also the mention of a no tolerance policy, so the chances that McKinley was the only anti-fun school in the United States was plausible. And there she was, standing in a room chock full of the one thing the entire tri-state area hated. The temptation in the coach's offer was getting too much to hear.

"_It'll be okay."_

How could it be okay when she was stuck between a rock and a hard place, forced to choose between her popularity and loser Dom, music and cheerleading, all over again. One gave her comfort and friends, even though they often didn't count her as the same unless they were in a bind and needed just about anyone to fill the void. The other offered her security, and while she was hated by many, she was revered like a goddess walking on land. Boys adored her every movement. Girls often desperately wanted to be her. Honestly, who would want to give up celebrity status just so they could be an underdog and thrive on the harassment given out like lashings?

"I have pepperoni in my bra."

Santana did her best to ignore the rush of emotions that flooded throughout her every pore, although she could feel the endearment upon her features. A smile tugged at her lips, although the young Latina simply brushed it off, even if the corners of her lips just wouldn't fall, an undeniable laugh bubbling within her that she refused to let out. Even after all the crap they'd just been through, this girl knew exactly the right thing to ssay to wrench her from the building anger she'd been suffering from. Still, she remembered as she masked the giddiness that she'd been feeling with a small (hopefully unnoticeable) smile, she couldn't let the woman she still cared for know how much she still affected her. It was only fair considering the past twenty four hours they had had in one another's presence. "Those are your nipples, Britt." The way that the blond who stood beside her grinned, she might as well have said 'All is forgiven' instead. More or less, since they hadn't quite spoken since the almost argument in first period, it probably was the closest she'd ever come to saying 'I'm sorry'.

A careful knock on the door alerted the frenzied, irate teenagers, all eyes turning to look at the doorway where a lone figure awkwardly stood. Santana recognized them immediately, her heart offering only a strange skip in it's beat as the girl's words repeated again in her mind, ignoring the feeling of safety she had felt while wrapped in her arms. Without even realizing that she'd done it, that Latina stepped sideways, adding only a bit of small space between she and the dancer that was feeling more like the grand canyon rather than a foot. Green orbs met with brown, an understanding and caring grin appearing on the pale girl's lips.

Brittany could only watch quietly, a feeling of dread moving through her almost like it did in one of those slasher movies her best friend enjoyed- except there was no moody music in the background and she sincerely doubted that the stranger was a killer. Still, her eyes narrowed, something inside of her screaming not to let her out of her sights just in case.

The Latina moved forward, her feet reacting on their own as she walked over to the door, reaching out to remove a piece of wilted lettuce that was stuck in the folds of her hair, asking softly as the others just watched in whispered silence, "What are you doing here?" She tried to tune out the fact that she could just make out Mercedes speaking in hushed tones, as well as Kurt and Tina's near silent replies, but the fact that she could actually hear them, how they judged and made their decisions about her, about her relationship with this unknown person, about the girl who seemed to be in the good graces of Satan herself. Her stomach turned, churning, and she could feel the crawl on her skin as she began to put up her barriers, almond eyes turning slightly away from the dirty blond who stood before her. What were they saying? What were they thinking? Why weren't they just saying whatever it was where she could hear it? At least if it was said to her face then she had a chance to defend herself, but with the whispers… With them talking behind her back in plain sight….

Gently, a hand placed itself on her shoulder, grabbing her attention enough to look up into the emeralds of the other girl's eyes. An understanding smile, soft and sure, moved before her sight, saying without even opening her lips the phrase that had been repeating like a mantra in her head. _"It'll be okay."_

For a moment, she couldn't help but want to believe in these words.

Turning away from their gaze, the slightly taller dark blond girl stepped forward and past the Latina, a simple grin upon her face as she stepped center stage, facing down the curious stares with her head raised high. With her hands folded before her, hiding an odd stain that made it look like she'd peed herself (not that anyone cared after getting doused by various drinks and edibles), Amanda proudly stood saying, "I would like to take part of this shindig, if you don't mind." Again, whispers erupted, although this time more from excitement rather than anything else. Puck was part way through a comment about always needing a lesbian (or two) around as Mister Schuester approached the waiting girl, a smile upon his face as he said something about affecting one of the many or something like that, and that he'd be happy to let her join.

Although, ever the killjoy, Rachel had stood from her now greased seat, her brown eyes alight with the fire of competition- something that had never ended well. "And what are your vocal accomplishments?" Her voice was slightly shrill but definitely demanding, wanting an answer for the approval she believed that this stranger had to give. "I mean, most of us have completed a wondrous tour of various caliber and struggle, which, if we discount nationals, we best much of the competition. And, even if we did count nationals, New Directions did place-"

"In twelfth." All eyes once again moved to look at Amanda, who remained standing upright with a smile plastered upon her featured. Most seemed surprised, wondering how this unknown person to their school might have known such a detail- especially since no one on school grounds outside of a small handful of people even cared about their accomplishments in the arts. For some reason, Santana couldn't bring herself to feel astonished by the information, recalling once more about the few things she'd been told before school had started earlier. "I was in your division. Well… The Canaries were."

Kurt's eyes seemed to light up at the sounds of the name given, having recognized it somehow despite the others looking as confused as ever. "The Crawford Canaries?" the fair skinned boy questioned, not even trying to hide the excitement in his voice, his hand clutching his knees as the dirty blond nodded in response. He let out a short but piercing squeal in delight, looking around at his peers to see if they had caught his recognition- which, of course, none did. "They actually got eleventh place with that rhythm and blues mash up, and they're the sister school to Dalton Academy." The choir room remained silent, a dim understanding to what the feminine boy was saying lighting most of their eyes. Finally, with a grumbled sigh as he leaned again one of his hand, he added, "The girl's school at nationals that sang Usher's 'Yeah'." A resounding noise of 'Oh's' filled the room, although the answer didn't seem to satisfy the petite brunette who was still staring at her with a fiery passion that the boyish blond was starting to feel very uncomfortable under.

"That doesn't mean that she can sing," Rachel pointed out quickly, trying to still semm like she was in control of the situation as a drip of ketchup fell from her dark locks and onto her stained shoulder. "For all we know, she could be lying to us about it jus to get in our good graces and then… snap! My college transcripts will lose a year of glee club, and my choice school will deny me for not having enough to define me from my competition."

Leaning close to Santana's ear, the blond couldn't help but ask, "Is she always like this?"

The Latina stifled a laugh, although she could feel a pair of blue eyes watching her as she moved over closer to the new girl who just seemed to understand her. It was almost too strange how easily they got one another, and yet it felt good, having someone there to fill the void that had been left. A thoughtful gaze crossed the dark eyes of the caramel skinned girl, feeling as careful crystals nitpicked to the moment, her heart throbbing in hurt as she recalled this morning, regretting the words she'd already been forgiven for. Still, her hands stubbornly moved to the various food items still hanging off of what was once a lavender shirt, picking them off rather than face the probing stare of a girl who knew her far too well. Sympathetic green eyes watched her from the corner of the dirty blond's vision, trying to listen to the insistent yammering of the short brunette although her attention remained almost completely upon the one that was avoiding the others.

"Look," Amanda began with a smile crawling across her lips, although Santana could feel the awkwardness the girl felt radiate off her, and the silence that followed just seemed to thicken the air ever so slightly. At least the midget wasn't going to talk over her, the Latina mused with both relief and annoyance, although the latter was mainly due to her honest dislike of the chatty girl. "Whether you want me here or not, whether you're threatened by the fact that I was apart of a school which beat you out by a couple points at Nationals in the first of several divisions-" The girl gave a pointed look toward Rachel, who seemed to find something strangely fascinating upon the walls to the right of her, and the young Hispanic woman couldn't help but stifle a small laugh at the sight of the silenced chatterbox. "I think I deserve an audition before you make your decisions about me."

Santana gazed quietly at her peers, taking in each one of their stares, analyzing them as she always did. The hobbit seemed put off, a small pout of her lips, probably keeping herself in check as the memory of one Sunshine Corazon lingered like the scent of raw fish. Kurt looked vaguely interested, although she could only assume it was because he was finding some sort of comradierie with the dark blond with all those rumors flying about the girl's unsaid sexuality- although she could only assume that they were true after their brief conversation earlier. Schuester seemed both perplexed yet excited about the young woman's interest in joining their small ragtag team of misfits. And Brittany- The cheerleader averted her eyes, that pang of knowing what she'd lost burrowing in the near emptiness of her heart, knowing the look on the dancer's face like the back of her hand. After all, she'd put that look on her several times last year, hating how the girl could look so hurt, so taken aback, like a puppy who'd just been kicked by it's owner. Honestly, she should have gained a medical condition from how many times her heart seemed to break in this girl's presence.

Finally (thankfully) the older man broke the silence, a smile upon his square chinned face, stepping toward both girls with hope gleaming in his hazel eyes. He paused before them, offering his hand in friendship to the blond transfer student. "It would be our pleasure to give you an audition, Miss…"

"Amanda," the blond offered, taking the educator's hand with her own, giving it a meaningful squeeze- one that said 'I'm interested' but snuck in the 'my life won't end if I don't get this' on top of it. The Latina gazed silently at their clasped hands until they quickly parted, having long ago learned the art of non-verbal introductions through one of several parties she had been forced to go to along with her parents, playing the perfect daughter along with whatever other role she was asked to play. One could read a lot about a person from their stance, their stare, and even from their being- and honestly, the enigma that was the new student seemed to radiate with the confidence of a veteran, a person who obviously knew what she was doing. Still, beneath the quiet bravado was a shyness that couldn't be erased, and finding that playful uncertainty in those green eyes caused her stomach to summersault with some unknown excitement. "Umm… hate to do this, but…" The girl scratched her cheek in embarrassment, that confidence that had once been gone before the caramel skinned beauty could name the reason to the odd feelings causing her guts to churn. "Can I go change out of this first? I really don't want to audition with food parts in my hair- especially if I can't outright name what they are."

Schuester gave a laugh, hearty and felt through each student who watched, smiles coming to each student's face, only to nod in understanding. "Sure. Go for it. I assume you know where the locker room is?" The transfer nodded with a grin of her own, heading toward the doorway, only to disappear out of it.

Santana only wondered why her heart hadn't stopped it's galloping pace yet. Guilty brown orbs moved to look at blue, wanting to find a reason- any reason really- as to why she should turn away from this stranger, to come crawling on her knees back into the loving arms of the dancer her beating organ would always race for. Uncertainty held tight to her worries, her fears of being rejected once again paining her as she searched the girl's gaze, knowing in her heart that she couldn't keep doing this. Not when she knew that all she was looking for was another reason to harm her broken heart in the process. Once more, the Latina turned her gaze away, biting down silently on the inside of her cheek as she did her best to focus on something other than that usual pang of sadness in her chest at the sight of the blond she still, and would always, care for.

Another knock on the wood frame doorway leading into the choir room once more alerted the caramel skinned girl, as well as the rest of her seemingly restless peers. Each person's sights moved to take in the new person standing there, the woman's clothes not as obviously drench in mystery meat and whatever else from the food fight from earlier. The Hispanic teens brown orbs took in the look of her, narrowing as she attempted top once again place the woman in her memory, realizing that this was perhaps the first time she'd actually looked at her up close and personal without some kind of distraction. She could hear the slight shuffle of excitement behind her, a clap of familiar hands moving together as Brittany stood to greet their guest. And, while she couldn't explain it entirely, Santana felt an icy wave of distaste for the woman, the Latina's arms crossing in front of herself as the dancer bounded past her, taking the ebony haired educator into her arms. "Miss Maloni!"

Carefully, the mid-twenty some year old peeled herself from the blond's arms, an awkward laugh on her lips as she offered an uneasy smile to the bouncing girl. "Hello, Brittany."

"Mary," Schuester called with a grin broadly crossing his lips, the mere cheesiness of it causing the dark eyed cheerleader to feel sick to her stomach at the sight of it. As he stepped forward, a hand moving to her back while the other attempted to help direct the woman inside, all Santana could think at that moment was how her choir director seemed to be trying too hard, yearning for the attention of the pretty young new hire perhaps too honestly. How this many had attracted Miss Hottie Holiday and Miss Etcha-sketchy Pillsbury was beyond her, although the paler woman seemed to be eating it up as the others before her had. With that shy yet honored smile crossing her lips, Maloni allowed Mister Schue to move her around, and the once commonly known Head Bitch of McKinley couldn't help or deny the uncomfortable feeling in her gut at the mere sight of it. While she couldn't pinpoint as to why she felt this way, the girl could only ponder silently in her rooted spot whether this was even the true version of this near stranger. Still, as Will stopped the woman and himself at the piano, he turned toward his seated students, the blond once more taking her seat while the Cheerio stood almost defiantly, refusing to sit until her… well, she wasn't sure if Amanda was her friend, but she was going to wait for her return no matter if the man seemed to have some kind of announcement or whatever. Still, she waited, watching as Schue gave off that weirdly creepy, goofy smile he wore whenever he was happy about something. "Miss Maloni and I had a conversation earlier today-"

"Whoop-de-doo." All eyes turned to the Latina, who could only shrug in response. "What? Vest-o-holic here talks up every cute, young thing. Are we really surprised?"

"Anway," the man continued, his voice firmer, almost asking for her not to retort again until he was finished, and the rest of the class returned their gazed once more to their director with interest. "It turned out that Miss Maloni used to be in a glee club of her own when she was your age," Santana bit her tongue from commenting about that being last year, "and she's expressed interest in joining us as a co-director."

The polite claps the woman received did little to hide the indignant 'humph' coming once again from Rachel, nor the sound of a backpack dropping to the cement floor just inside the door- just a few steps from the Latina who had to physically turn to take in the freshly dressed Amanda. Her dark chocolate orbs eyed curiously the black shirt that looked as though it had been shoved haphazardly into the girl's locker of bag. Otherwise, she could still note the oddly stained blue jeans that she'd been wearing earlier, as well as a stainless steel chain which she had partially seen yet ignored in her desperate hunger for a cigarette that morning. As Schuester turned, the grin on his blinding him from seeing the newly arrived student's face- which had contorted into something between both shock and horror- he offered a friendly wave toward her. "Amanda! Good timing." His hand dropped to signal toward the woman beside him, who now seemed to look even more uncomfortable than before- something the Latina was willing to blame her teacher's over-excitement to shove the woman into the spotlight. "This is Miss-"

"Maloni," Amanda offered, her slightly rougher tone sending a strange chill down Santana's spine, and honestly she couldn't tell if it was because of the bitterness she heard creep into the seemingly kind girl's voice or due to the same reason to why her heart had once again taken off into a sprinter's pace. "We've met." The silence that followed only seemed to perk an odd interest within the caramel skinned teenager, curiosity questioning why neither person seemed willing to explain how- until she moved to convince herself that it was because of earlier, when the slightly older woman had chosen to chase after the escaping girl.

Still, for some reason, their curly haired advisor didn't seem to feel the tension which had grown thick between the two newest additions, and once more his hand moved to the small of Mary's back. Amanda's eyes seemed to narrow at the sight, only to firmly look away as she scooped up her belongings from the floor, her grip firm as she tossed a strap from her backpack over her shoulders. Whatever had been said earlier must have been bad, the Latina mused quietly, one of her crossed arms reaching out to gently touch the frustrated girl's hand nearest to her. Quietly, emeralds met with earth, the anger at the situation dissipating as the two shared just a single glance that said more than words could say. _'Are you okay?'_ the concern within her asked, gently wrapping tanned fingers around the girl's pale wrist, and her answer was a grimace the dirty blond haired young woman was attempting to form into a smile. It felt strange to understand this girl, a strange comprehention passing between them, the other girl's uncertain gaze saying, 'No, but I will be.' A truer smile crossed the blond's features, a hint of relief filling the duo as they stood, conversing silently, and Santana knew the girl felt gracious for her attention and care.

Both Santana and Amanda broke apart as they heard the crude tone of Puckerman calling out softly to his nearby friends, "That's hot." With a grumble in the back of her throat, she promised to make the pervert pay later on, moving toward her empty seat, her middle finger in the air toward the male in question, rolling her eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her. Obviously, the boy wanted to die.

Carefully, the cautious and newly calmed girl stepped forward, inhaling deeply as she took center stage, folding her hands uncomfortably in front of her after placing her bag down beside her. Will eyed the teen carefully, curiosity and eagerness in his eyes while the new teacher heading the New Directions seemed to feel physically ill, her hand hovering before her mouth while her hazel eyes carefully watching the student. The thirty some year old male clapped his hands together, rubbing them together, a grand smile on his face as he asked, "So… what do you have in mind for us?"

At the sound of his voice, Amanda forced herself to stand straighter, lifting her chin just a hint higher, determined to seem find when the Latina could see her anxiety as clear as day. Still, there was a difference in the girl's demeanor, her brief anger from before having transformed itself. A glimmer of something passed before the girl's green orbs, a small smile on her face as her hands released themselves from her own grip, falling limply at her sides as she took on the mask of the girl who'd first walked into their classroom. She was holding herself together, but just barely, a method that the Hispanic girl couldn't help but find solace and understanding in after all of her own attempts at the same.

Still, a disgruntled voice cut through the silence that had followed Schuester's question, and all eyes turned to the short young woman who was glaring angrily at the back of the chair in front of her. "I don't see why Miss Maloni, as respectable and well meaning as she probably is, should be simply accepted when her own talents have yet to be conversed over or shown." Santana raised an eyebrow at the midget's concerns, a low growl on her lips as she glared at the girl, finding them as useless as the ones that she had thrown in hopes of keeping the tall and unknown dirty blond out of their group. Honestly, the munchkin wannabe was jealous of the attention, unwilling to share her spotlight anymore than she already was, and the fact that she could be stuck with a sub-par co-director was just not on her list of things she wanted. It was obvious, painfully so, but still Will turned his gaze toward both the teacher beside him and the girl who was standing, looking stricken, realizing the truth of what was going to happen, the grimace once again returning despite her desperate try to keep it off.

"Would you two mind doing a duet?"

For the first time in what could have been ages, emerald eyes met with multi colored orbs, words unsaid, thoughts unspoken, emotions and everything else barely restrained by the things that neither could forget.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_Eight pages, but I kind of like where I stopped. I figure that I can explain a little bit more about things mentioned but not spoken about. Anyway, I will have a song added in for the next chapter, having chosen it especially to explain what the Hell is going on between both characters who will end up singing it._

_And wow… I'm still on the first technically episode after this chapter… I need to start getting through more of this muddle before I forget where I'm going with this fic. Haha_

_But, besides all that, here is where I will be forced to type in my plea for you to write a review, and that I will love you forever as your reward for typing that button below. I understand that's not a great gift, but I'm not a lovable person honestly enough- so really it should be worth more. Besides, what is greater than making someone's day with something so small and simple? Thank you for reading, and I hope that you continue to read despite my random writing schedule._


	4. Chapter 4

_NOW to explain the whole singing thing in this story: since there are two people singing, I try to make it clear by _**BOLDING**_ Amanda's and _Italicizing_ Mary's. Hope that makes it easier to understand. Sorry to anyone who get's confused._

_Also! I added a bit that explains why Schue seems a little too enthusiastic to have a new member of the McKinley staff join their ragtag group as a secondary director…_

_Disclaimer:__ I own nothing. That about explains it all, doesn't it?_

**Chapter Four**

_Earlier that day…_

The teacher's lounge had been, to say the least, devoid of adults- an uncommon occurrence, since most educators were expected to roll onto the grounds an hour or so earlier than the students themselves. It took Will a moment to recall that Shannon had mentioned something about wanting to start bench pressing drills so to keep in tip top shape with her team, and a moment more to remember how Emma-

The square chinned man felt his jaw tighten, soon lost in memories as the summer began to roll over him much like a monster truck would. It was hard even now, remembering those brief weeks where he and his red-headed love had spent their time together, working through the muddle that was the last several years. They kissed so sweetly that the world just seemed to fall away like it didn't even matter. The woman was doing better with her OCD, her counseling and medication doing as much as they could. But it didn't take long for things to start falling apart at the seams, no matter how hard they fought to stick through it, to try and fix the damage that had been done in the past. She had been pushing herself too hard, wanting nothing more than to be the perfection she thought he wanted, and the night she had a mental breakdown, it had been too much. She pulled back, declining when he asked her to move in with him, only to tell him that they needed to break it off. She'd convinced herself that she was too damaged, and that she couldn't go into this relationship completely until she had a better hold, until she was better. He tried to talk her out of it, claiming that he'd be with her every step of the way, but she refused to believe it.

Now, it seemed she was avoiding him.

The curly haired man sat himself down at an empty table, holding his coffee cup close as he did his best to push those emotionally draining thoughts out of his mind. Instead, he sat, taking in the room about him, hazel eyes glancing only shortly on the few others there. He honestly didn't talk to anyone other than the specific few, his Acafellas band mates gone for one reason or another, his usual table mate off busy around campus, and really the other teachers seemed to keep away from him simply because of the glee club. How people could despise the arts after all the good it was doing was beyond him, but he respected his coworkers' choices while they avoided him for his. But Hell, even Sue seemed to have something going on this morning, leaving him with no one to even banter negatively with.

Sipping at his cooling cup, William had just barely resigned to a boring before-school hour when she had walked in.

The young woman was beautiful, although from the subtle stares around him, he realized that he wasn't the only one who had noticed. Her naturally curly black locks contrasted effectively against her milky white skin, her hazel eyes shimmering behind small rectangle frames meant for someone trice her age. Her slim body had curves in all the right places, although her crimson colored top fell loosely around her hips, meeting where her dark jeans began, hiding away conservatively things students- especially their male students- were likely to ogle during lessons.

And, as the younger woman turned, he'd realized that he'd just been caught doing the same.

An awkward smile crossed his lips, bashfully looking away from the beautiful young woman, running a hand through his curly mess as his other hand held tightly to his coffee cup. What she must think of him now, a grown man who had just been watching this beautiful girl like a lion watching a gazelle prancing about on the Serengeti. After all, from what he'd heard about their new hire from the second hand gossip around school, she was a good handful of years younger than him. Did she maybe think he was some kind of pervert? One of those older gentlemen who taught in high school for the random peek of things he couldn't have? He was far from that, having never thought about a student in such a manner despite some's obvious want for him to do so. Yet, sitting alone at that table, single and trying to get over his heartbreak from his last relationship, he couldn't help the loneliness nor his silent wish to simply watch this woman's lithe and muscled body more about.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard a chair nearby scraping against the cheap linoleum floor, a strange new warmth settling in the seat beside him. Cautiously, he looked up, taking in the girl's striking looks up close, his broken heart managing an odd flip at the sight of hazel eyes and dark wavy locks with soft natural curls blanketing her shoulders. Was she there to confront him over his leering? It was a possibility considering, but a small and playful smile tugged at this near stranger's lips. Sipping briefly from her own mug, the young educator beside him reached out, extending her hand toward him, offering it in greeting. "I don't believe we've met officially. My name is Mary Maloni."

A dry laugh was strangled from his throat, a small but relieved grin crossing his features as he reached out his own hand, grasping her's in a friendly hello. "I don't believe we have," he managed with a slight chuckle, his nervousness started to get the better of him. He withdrew his hand, placing it once more around his cooling and nearly forgotten coffee. "You can call me Will. Will Schuester." He watched as the girl nodded, obviously doing her best to put that information into her memory banks, the light scrunch on the bridge of her perfect nose telling him that she was trying hard to make sure she'd remember it for the next time they spoke. He could almost see her mind trying to make a connection to something for that purpose alone. "So I take it you're the new hire Figgins added to the roster?" He knew the answer already, but he understood that it would be enough to start some small talk between them for the time being.

As he assume, the dark haired woman nodded. "Yeah. Is it that obvious?" She was laughing softly, the bells in her harmonious voice shooting a thrill through him whether he wanted it to or not. Still, as he joined in with his own deeper timber, a mischievous glint hit her multi-colored gaze, a sly smirk on her lips as she watched him. In those few seconds, the awkward air around them had shifted, and he could feel heat gather at his collar. He watched as the laughter died on her lips, her upper body leaning forward, and William was all of a sudden trying very hard not to look down the blouse that had shifted down ever so slightly to the bosom that had just been put on display, probably by accident. "You wouldn't happen to be the choir director of the New Directions, would you?" He raised an eyebrow in her direction, finding it odd that someone would be actually interested in his club position, let alone be looking at him with some odd seductive glimmer in the green of her colorful eyes. Awkwardly, he nodded, stiff and unsure, but the true excitement in the beautiful girl's reflective orbs allowed him a little room to feel relief. "That's great! I heard you guys got to nationals last year."

"We did," he said finally, hoping that his voice didn't sound as strangled as he thought it had. He felt as if the words had been squeezed through his throat, just this side of painful as his own multicolored eyes focused on the cup in his hands rather than the woman's cleavage. He still loved Emma, even though the woman had been adamant in him moving on with his life without her. It just felt far too soon to look, to think, to daydream. Clearing his blocked throat, the thirty-three year old educator grinned toward his mug, not trusting himself to look at this near stranger. "I think we'll do better this year." They had to, since they improved every year, and they made him proud to be their director each and every time they took the stage. "They're a wonderful group of kids. All of them as so talented."

A small silence followed, and he could feel her eyes upon him, studying him, although he couldn't quite name as to why. Curiosity gripped at him, and the curly haired man caught sight of the young woman's hazel orbs staring right through his. Pleasant memories twinkled behind her gaze, but then there was something else- a quiet sadness, one she was trying to mask with all her power, yet failing in the process. "You remind me of my old glee coach," she mused softly, a gentle smile playing on her pink lips.

"You were in glee?" He didn't know how those words could sound so incredulous, his hazel orbs wide in surprise as he took her in with an entirely different light about her. A prat of him still noticed her interested gaze, the way her lashes seemed to flutter just so as she held in a laugh from his reaction, but now he could see a light of hope glimmering in her colored gaze. After all, the more educators who took a stand beside the art programs meant there was a chance that the district would keep them around for a little while longer. "I mean… of course you were." His awkward cover did nothing to help him from the embarrassment he felt, nor from keeping the ebony haired beauty from grinning in amusement.

"Back before college," she supplied with a coy smile on her lips, although he didn't miss her reminiscent sigh that followed. "Though I visited my alma mater when I could." The girl glanced away for the first time, her hazel orbs carrying a weight within them that he could just barely see as she watched something out the windows. Her playful smile was faltering, losing it in the memories she was seemingly drowning in, and Will couldn't deny his want to cheer this girl up somehow… although he couldn't quite seem to figure out how he might be able to do that. "Everything used to be so much better back then…" she muttered softly, leaning against her propped up arm.

"You miss it?" His voice was soft, caring, his fingers gingerly pressing themselves to her stationary hand on the table. At this, her mind seemed to return from where ever it had gone to, her stare glimpsing at his touch before returning to look at him. The young woman's smile came back, mischievousness burning in those briefly sad pools of emotion. Once more, she moved, positioning herself so to offer him yet another sighting of her breasts through the opening of her top, promptly causing the thirty-some year old Spanish teacher to lose just what he was thinking about. His drying mouth opened, although no words seemed to come out.

"Of course," she said, her words carrying a flirtatious vibe that not even he could deny, leaning her chin upon her hand as she watched him with a raised eyebrow, her hazel depths giving him more green lights than he was accustomed to. Her other hand moved from his, only to slide her French tipped nails against his forearm teasingly, a crooked smirk on her lips, refusing to look away from him- a fact that had him once again gulping under her gaze. "You know… If you ever need help directing…"

"Yes," he replied instantly, his heart betraying him with flips and flops that he honestly didn't want to end. His breath was warmer, shaking slightly at the mere presence of this beautiful young woman openly flirting with _him _of all people. Ripping his sight from her's, the thirty-three year old director cleared his blocked throat, loosening with an awkward finger his collar, wondering how his tie had somehow gotten so tight in the last couple of minutes. "I mean, I would love some help. In glee." He laughed, his anxiety easy to tell as he awkwardly held onto his mug of coffee, staring it down as if the cooled liquid might give him the answers to his unspoken questions that he didn't dare ask. "The kids would be grateful to see another teacher there to support them," he said finally, forcing a grin on his face, hoping that it didn't look as strange as it felt- but the woman simply smiled, the fingers that were trailing his forearm moving up toward his upper arm, nails trailing the cloth over his firm muscle there.

"Then I'd love to help out," she answered softly, a purr on her lips not befit of a young woman who probably graduated high school four or five, maybe even six, measly years ago. Yet, from where he was sitting, he couldn't find the will to care, her bosom like magnets as he found himself looking at them from the corner of his own multicolored gaze. If that wasn't bad enough, the girl had leaned in, pressing a soft and delectable kiss on his cheek, lingering for just a moment longer than any normal person would in their situation. "I'll have to see you later, Will, to meet these wonderful kids," Mary said with a smile, and he felt as if he could have honestly melted then and then in his seat from the liquid sex that seemed to erupt in this girl. "I do have to take care of some kids outside. Smoking just outside of the campus is as bad as smoking on it, I always say."

She rose from her seat, playfully winking at him before she left the room just as she had come- and Mister Schuester could only lean back as he allowed his heart to calm itself from the frantic beating it had taken to since her arrival.

**gleegleegleegleeglee**

_After lunch…_

The duet had been pushed back to the end of the day, the partners speaking rarely a word to one another unless they had to, and it seemed all too strange to watch the duo as they were right then. Most people didn't seem to look as sour as Amanda seemed to, her green eyes hard and her walls up more than Santana had ever seen them- which, honestly, wasn't all that much, but the fact remained that the caramel skinned girl hadn't quite seen it till then. Nor did Mister Schuester's new fling-till-the-ring look as excited about singing with the dirty blond as she should have, since most teachers looked at the whole ordeal as getting sickeningly closer to their students or some kind of crazy thing like that. All in all, the mid-twenty year old just looked as if she had been hit in the gut, although resigned to her fate at the very same time.

To someone who had long ago taken note in the way people moved, reading between the lines between little things that most people simply ignored, this was just one of those things that was driving her both insane and curious simultaneously. These two were strangers, people who probably had as much to do with one another as a pear would with a spaghetti dinner, and the young Latina couldn't help but watch the two as classes went on. Yet, no matter what she saw, none of it seemed to make any sense to her, caught between feeling as though she was reading too deeply into something- like maybe the two both wanted their own solos rather than a duet as Will had asked of them- or maybe not deeply enough, catching yet another pain filled glance between the teacher and the student that she was watching for approximately fifteen minutes during passing periods. Whatever seemed to be going on, the chocolate eyed girl could only watch, wait, and hope that maybe she'd eventually get the real story behind their antics at some point.

And maybe, just maybe, Amanda would let her in just a bit more to explain, and hopefully they might find some sort of even ground between them in the process.

Brittany, on the other hand, seemed to be continuously watching her, blue eyes firmly locked on the Latina's young and lithe body, her hands gripping hard to the notebook in her arms as she took sight of the spying the girl was going. There was a strange wall that had grown between them, one that left the sapphire orbed beauty yearning for times of old where the two of them would stand there, focusing on nothing but each other, laughing at the world around them. Pale fingers seemed to grip only harder at her belongings as she caught the shorter girl's gaze following the other blond, watching as the girl's brown gaze seemed to darken, sadness echoing in those usually unreadable eyes, seemingly mourning something in which the girl couldn't quite put a finger on.

The blond didn't want to admit that she could feel her heart breaking all the more, reminding herself that this had been her choice after all. She swallowed awkwardly at the lump growing in her throat, gripping harder yet to her school items, hating the walls that had seemingly grown between them.

And it was all her fault to begin with.

At the final bell of the day, each student in the glee club and their advisors flooded into the auditorium, some soundlessly while others spoke excitedly about what was going to be brought to the table by both their new glee director (even though Rachel seemed stubborn and unwilling to call the woman such) and the new girl herself. Tina and Mike seemed to be caught in a mild argument about the two performers: Tina thinking that their new recruit Amanda seemed more of an Etheridge sound with her deeper voice and the new teacher more lighter with her tone, while Mike was convinced that the dirty blond could very well be a song and dance kind of girl since she had just come from a private school much like Dalton and the teacher… well, she could have come from a school like that too. Sure, the dancing at said private schools were often questionable at times, but at least each member seemed semi capable at doing more than the boy hand things they each performed in sync. Kurt seemed cautiously excited, although he didn't want to show it on his features, hand lingering near his lips as he watched the stage expectantly, brown eyes slightly narrowed as he took to judging before it had even begun. Puck, on the other hand, was rubbing his hands together with a smile on his face that could make even the most innocent uncertain about his intentions. Finn had his usual dopey look, even as his girlfriend beside him pouted and huffed, hopeful that the duo at least made her wasting time worth while. Artie and Mercedes were wondering openly about just what kind of music the duet would end up being, curious if they would have another rhythm and blues affectionato, or perhaps welcome someone who had yet to bring a different genre into their ragtag group. Quinn sat in front of him, eyes on the stage, although she was calmly and silently listening to the duo behind her, looking briefly toward the brunette diva would had slumped into her chair while still managing to look indignant and irritated all at once.

Brittany sat beside the blond young woman whom had one been captain of their cheer squad, trying hard to pay attention to her friends around her, nodding along as the boy in the wheelchair asked her a question or two about her opinions. She tried not to feel out of place, to add her thoughts in (commenting wryly that the transfer probably couldn't even sing as nicely as penguins could), and even though Artie's gaze seemed to linger a moment longer than most others' did, the tallest girl of the group simply gave him a smile. The last thing they needed to see was how her eyes would flicker to the brown stare of her once lover, her best friend who seemed to be continually pulling away from her. She couldn't bare to let her friends know that her heart was aching in a way it hadn't since the day she had told the other girl she couldn't because of her then boyfriend. They didn't need to see how much the caramel skinned singer's eyes never seemed to deter from the stage laid out before them. The cheerleader inhaled deeply, turning her attention once more toward Mercedes, laughing at something that had sounded funny… even though she hadn't really listened to what the joke might have been, and the others seemed to look at her oddly because of it.

A nudge in her side took her from her thoughts, blue eyes taking in the hazel orbs beside her, a raised eyebrow the only question that could be asked. 'What's wrong?' 'Is everything okay?' 'I'm here for you.' This was why they would always be friends, even though most people didn't see why the smartest girl in school took under he wing the person that her peers and teachers felt was the dumbest one. The three of them genuinely cared about one another.

Brittany lowered her stare from the searching multicolored orbs, and she could feel the girl's eyes move from her toward the Latina who had seated herself a few seats in front of the others- an odd movement, since usually she and the other cheerleader normally kept to themselves in the back row. An understanding moved, gently patting it, understanding flowing from Quinn in waves… and while it didn't settle the growing ache in her chest, it did feel nice to have someone there who saw beyond the smiles for once.

The lights dimmed twice, enough to get the attention of each of those who had been paying little attention, and each person- even Rachel- looked up toward the stage with interested eyes as the curtains finally pulled apart to show two figures. One, Mary Maloni, was standing on stage right, an awkward smile on her lips as she took in the small audience before them. The other figure, Amanda, stood on the opposite side of the stage, dressed differently than before, a Superman ball cap sitting crooked on her head, a plain black zip-up jacket on her body as she tapped her foot and nodded her head to the beat that the band behind them was starting to play. The tune was familiar to some, although the beat was heavier, and the drums seemed to be taking a lead role comparatively to the versions that they'd heard before.

Santana's brown eyes took in the sight of the young woman who, despite being thugged out (the style was probably a little tad bit outdated, but whatever), brought a smile to her ruby lips. A hand rose, trying to stifle the chuckle that threatened to fall from her lips, amused beyond anyone's comprehension about this outfit. A part of her blamed her years living with her abeula in Lima Heights, but the girl was obviously wearing it for theatricality.

The mere fact that this new girl could make the Latina even chuckle- a real one rather than the forced one the blond had heard over the past day- sent a shiver of distaste down Brittany's spine.

"_Tell me actions, speak louder, but there's something about her words._"Mary's voice sounded beautiful, pronounced in the echo of the auditorium, but there was a tremble in her voice that didn't quite sound as lovely as the words seemed to. Santana watched the woman, taking in the performance with interest, noticing silently how the woman's emerald eyes would look at her duet partner- even though she honestly took the stage by the power of her voice. "_Closing up, it's so late and I'm the last one still waiting for you to lock the door._"

There was a brief pause before Amanda's voice began to cut in, interrupting the ballad that the ebony haired woman was singing, adding a quick, "**Check it,**"as she stepped forward, moving center stage as the teacher pulled back. It felt odd, noticing how now the older woman's gaze seemed to center upon the feet rather than the performer herself, but there was several things that felt odd about the duo. Not that anyone else seemed to notice. "**You got the wrong one if you think I ain't goin' out. You used to be the only girl a woman would think about.**"The dirty blond's arms and legs seemed to move, flowing on the stage easily just as Mike's would, but never once would those hazel orbs look at the black haired duet partner behind her. "**I got a couple of girls on call; I'mma a bring em out. A Magic City stripper- Huh, so this what this all about?**"The steadily dancing girl stopped, looking offended at the line, rolling her eyes as she pulled her hoodie closer to her, the coldness in her eyes never leaving. "**I'm in the club doing my two step. I pulled about eight broads already- I'm just getting my feet wet.**" The two step was amusing, although there was a suitable pop and lock that made Puck growl in interest and arousal- a sound that seemed to make more than just Santana roll her eyes. "**But I ain't even knocking your style, cause I be here all day trying at count how many girls want A-wow.**"

Portions of the gleeks gave a chuckle at the song and dance girl, although Brittany continued to glare in response, her dislike for this new girl was the girl dancer. She was the one who made Santana smile. She made her friends laugh with stupid little names. Not this wannabe Brittany, who wasn't even as awesome as the original. Her heart dropped to her stomach at the mere thought of being replaced, blue eyes once more turning to look at the caramel skinned brunette who was tapping her feet and nodding to the beat that the female rapper was enforcing with her words.

Amanda twirled back into the background, Miss Maloni once again coming forward- although her movements weren't as pop and lock as it was graceful and precise. Rachel recognized the pointed toes all too well. Still, this didn't deter the educator from once again making her voice known, her slow tune once again taking hold of the song they were dominating.

For the first time since the performance began, green eyes seemed to meet the hazel gaze of the younger girl, the bitter loneliness withheld from the rest of the room- but not to the woman whom had caused it. "_And on our way home I realize there's some kind of storm brewing in her eye… __**only veiled by a thin disguise**__._"The sound of Amanda's voice mixing with her own seemed to surprise even the teacher, the stern gaze of the girl pulling away, her jaw jutting, knowing the next lyrics all to well as she closed her eyes and listened to the plea in the woman's tone. Just like everything, it was an exchange that only each other seemed to recognize."_Now that I've done my time, I need to move on- and I need you to try._" The girl's jaw seemed to jut just a little more than before, the sting of even hearing them painful.

Once more, the dirty bloind moved forward- only this time, the teacher joined in, her steps having been long practiced despite the fact that they should have simply just thrown this all together in the last few hours. And, since the woman was teaching and the student learning, it simply felt… well, odd. Still, they looked amazing, moving together, singing as they turned, Mary singing her song proudly, even with tears forming in her eyes. "**I'm not looking for love, cause she's gone **_(Cause we're out of goodbyes)_." Mary stood her ground soon, belting her lines as Amanda sang her's, their voices raw with emotions that neither wanted to talk about. "**So tell all the girls that the bottle's on us, get your drink on **_(Cause we're out of goodbyes)._" The dirty blond playfully chucked up an invisible cup, as the dark haired woman spread her fingers and pushed the music out of her. "**I just wanna have a good time and keep you off my mind, find a little shawty I like **_(Cause we're out of goodbyes)._" The taller of the two performer's looked toward the slightly older woman, her eyes pained and her voice saying more words than she'd ever say otherwise- but to their audience, they were playing roles, the jilted lover and the one would was trying to do the right thing in a relationship that was going nowhere. "**Girl, when I'm up in the club, really turned up, I ain't gon' think about you**_ (We're out of goodbyes)._"

Both singers tore their gazes away from the other, returning to their separate parts of the stage, the frustration evident in hazels and the hesitation shining in emeralds. The break in the music gave the two to breathe and collect themselves, inhaling deeply and they steadied their hearts and minds to keep going. Mary opened her lips, readying herself to sing the next lines- but was caught by surprise as Amanda's voice cut in once more, although this time it was obvious that it wasn't something she'd expected. "**Never asked you to change - but sadly you don't feel the same about me.**" For the second or third time since the performance had begun, their eyes met. The hurt and animosity in those words, in her eyes, seemed to hit her square in the chest. Rather than push in, she listened, standing there as the girl bitterly spat the words, broken heart on her sleeve. "**Wasting time, steady trying to get you back. Get you back in my life… You don't care, no, you don't care.**" Finally, the spell was broken, the angry strength in the girl's words failing as the green eyed woman turned her sight toward the audience once more. The teenager shook her head, rolling her multicolored eyes as she heard Mary's voice finally sing. "_It used to be you that I like but I'mma do what I like tonight._ **I'm gon' get tipsy! **_And on our way home I realize there's some kind of storm brewing in her eyes…_

_**Only veiled by a thin disguise**_."

Once again, the duo began to sing, although the movements were less crisp than before, yet sterner and their movements firmer than before. Their stubbornness is what fuelled the performance now, not that anyone really seemed to care, enjoying either the music or the message more than they were willing to admit. After all, the idea that you'd rather distract yourself than face the heartache, and that you're willing to push away someone from a dying relationship, was something that each of them could understand. "**I'm not looking for love, cause she's gone **_(Cause we're out of goodbyes)_. **So tell all the girls that the bottle's on us, get your drink on **_(Cause we're out of goodbyes)._ **I just wanna have a good time and keep you off my mind, find a little shawty I like **_(Cause we're out of goodbyes)._ **Girl, when I'm up in the club, really turned up, I ain't gon' think about you**_ (We're out of goodbyes)._"

The music dimmed to silence, their voices calling out into the auditorium as the duo took in the other, their stances stronger than they felt, facing each other and standing taller than they felt. "_**And now that I've done my time, I need to move on and I need you to try. Cause we're out of goodbyes.**_" Both woman moved their eyes away, grimaces and pain crossing both of their features- something that a certain Latina couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at.** "**_Yeah, we're out of goodbyes_,**and I ain't gon' think about you…**"

They only stood for just a moment before the small audience around them erupted into clapping, although the brunette diva seemed to have decided at some point that a nod of appreciation was a better girl than applause- especially since she'd be rivals from here on out with one of the two. The loudest of all was Santana, cheering for her new friend, enjoying the singer and rapper's way. Stepping forward, both women clasped hands, although it was evident that nothing had really changed between them- and that it was better off to stay as strangers than… whatever this had become.

Turning away, they forced on their smiles, bowing in their own ways toward the clapping, laughing along with the others even as their own emotions bubbled and toiled within.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Okay, so I'm not much for writing down here as I used to be. I understand that urging everyone to offer up a review is kind of selfish of me- so I'll thank you for reading and hope that, should you feel inclined to, I'll get a couple. Thank you for taking your time to read this, and I hope that it only gets better._


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